


may love

by Anxiety_Elemental



Series: McGenji Week 2019 [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-09 11:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19886713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxiety_Elemental/pseuds/Anxiety_Elemental
Summary: Gabriel watches Shimada toss McCree across the arena, as if two hundred and fifty pounds of armored cowboy were light as a stuffed toy. McCree strikes the mat with a loud smack and a pained “Oof!” and Shimada pounces, like a hawk on a rabbit. Gabriel sighs through his nose, deep and frustrated.Damn it, he’d told them to get along.Prompt: Lost in translation





	may love

**Author's Note:**

> This one became less "lost in translation" and more generally "misunderstanding" whoops.
> 
> Content warnings include mild violence.

Gabriel watches Shimada toss McCree across the arena, as if two hundred and fifty pounds of armored cowboy were light as a stuffed toy. McCree strikes the mat with a loud smack and a pained “Oof!” and Shimada pounces, like a hawk on a rabbit. Gabriel sighs through his nose, deep and frustrated.

Damn it, he’d told them to get along.

The other agents observing the spar cheer, like they’re watching a game and instead of what’s supposed to be a training demonstration. Shimada’s fighting like a thing possessed, like he always does. McCree is worse off, he’s best with a gun in his hand, not using his fists, and he’s rolling with the blows and dodging as best he can. He’d thought he’d have two of his best agents demonstrate hand-to-hand techniques for the newbies would be instructional, instead it’s... _this_.

“That’s enough,” Gabriel shouts, and it’s like a switch has been flipped. Shimada stops fighting immediately, and takes McCree’s hand and gently helps him to his feet. He’s not sure what he’s looking at, but he doesn’t like it.

Reyes dismisses the recruits, telling them to head back to the lecture hall, and tells Shimada and McCree to scram. Except, once the recruits and Shimada are out of earshot, he grabs McCree’s arm.

“I told you,” Gabriel begins, “I need you and Shimada to get along.”

McCree blinks at him, confused.

“You two are working together now,” Gabriel continues, McCree is usually one of his sharpest, what doesn’t he understand? “So I can’t have you two trying to kill each other every chance you get, got it?”

“Oh,” understanding dawns on McCree’s face, “No boss, we’ve been getting along great.”

“ _That_ ,” Gabriel waves a hand back in the direction of the arena, “Was getting along? It looked like you were trying to kill each other.”

“Ain’t that the point though?” McCree says, “We talked about it before, we thought for the demonstration we should give the most realistic spar we can, right? So we thought - ”

“Just,” Gabriel takes a deep breath, starting to wonder if maybe there is still a problem, but in the opposite direction. He can feel a headache beginning to press on the inside of his skull. Right now he doesn’t have the energy to parse whatever it is McCree is telling him, “Do less of. That. Whatever that was. You’re dismissed, I’ll finish up with the recruits.”

McCree shrugs, “Whatever you say.”

\---

Jesse leaves his conversation with Reyes, uncertainty bubbling in the back of his mind. He and Shimada _had_ been getting along great.

At least Jesse thought they’d been getting along great. But he trusts Reyes, and if he can’t tell then maybe he’s wrong?

Things had been different, since that mission where the EMP almost took out Shimada. He still don’t talk much, but if Jesse’s somewhere public in his off-hours he’s more likely than not to see Shimada sitting somewhere nearby. He’s not sure if Shimada’s after something specifically, but Jesse don’t mind. He’s started getting used to his presence.

They don’t talk during these times. Shimada don’t seem to want to and he ain’t gonna press him. If he’s being honest with himself he kind of likes it. Shimada don’t seem to have any particular expectations or demands of him, and he’s not going to ask anything of Shimada he don’t wanna give. It’s kinda nice. Not having to live up to anyone’s expectations. Just existing as he is.

The night after his talk with Reyes, the two of them are sitting in the lounge, empty at this time. At some point Shimada snuck in and perched on the arm of the sofa Jesse is laying on. Like a guardian statue. Or a bird in a cage.

“You have been restless,” Shimada says, interrupting Jesse’s thoughts and their usual silence, “Is there something wrong?”

Jesse is grateful he wasn’t the one to break the quiet. “Just been thinking,” he starts,“I’m gonna just get right to it, you think we’ve been getting along?”

Shimada’s eyebrows furrow, “Is this not getting along?” he asks, sounding unsure, not a tone he usually hears from him.

Jesse shrugs. “Feels like it?” he says, though he can’t keep it from sounding like a question.

“Is something wrong?” Shimada asks, sounding upset. Not angry upset but... sad? Which is even stranger to hear.

“Nah, it’s just - ” Jesse trails off, not sure how to organize his thoughts into words.

He wonders if something’s been lost in translation - not necessarily the language barrier, Shimada never seems to have much trouble understanding English far as he can tell. But of his thoughts into words, or his words into Shimada’s head. He just feels like he’s making it worse.

“I’m probably overthinking it,” Jesse says, trying to sound nonchalant, “Don’t worry about it, Shimada.”

“Genji,” Shimada says, “You can... call me Genji.”

“Sure, Genji,” Jesse says, and something deep in his chest does something deeply unwise.

\---

Jesse is a distraction, and Genji doesn’t know what to do about it.

Genji is sitting on the roof of the base, by the satellite dishes and nesting birds. The only way up here is a long flight of stairs, and no one else comes up here except for maintenance work on the communications equipment. It’s nothing for him to climb up here to hide up and away from the rest of the world, tucked up close to the sky. He likes it when he needs to be alone.

Why did he go ahead and tell Jesse to call him by his first time? It seemed like the right thing at the time, but now he’s not sure why he thought that. And he’s not sure when he started thinking of him as ‘Jesse’ and not ‘McCree’.

When the EMP destroyed his body he’d been left blind, deaf, and numb, the last thing he saw was Jesse running towards him. The only sensation left to him was in what was left of his skin, and he remembered clutching at rough fabric, unable to move or speak or perceive in any way what was happening to him.

He’d been so _scared_.

There’d been an electric jolt through his whole body, a hand holding his. He could breathe again, a soft brush of leather against his knuckles, the distant rumble of a familiar voice. Jesse had tried to comfort him.

He didn’t even bring it up afterwards, didn’t hold it over his head, didn’t even tease him.

There is a pit in Genji’s chest, where a heart should be. A void where home and family used to be. For a while he could only fill it with anger: at Hanzo, at Overwatch, at Reyes, at Angela. Maybe he's starting to exhaust himself, running out of rage like a battery losing charge. He notices the exhaustion in Angela’s face, the small, subtle says Reyes shows his approval.

And Jesse -

What did he mean when he asked if they got along?

He doesn’t understand what Jesse could be thinking.

He’s not sure what he feels, himself.

\---

Later, there is Rialto. Blackwatch is suspended, and Genji is pulled away and repurposed by Overwatch. Apparently, it was decided he was too valuable an asset to let him wither on the sidelines with the rest of Blackwatch.

There are more upgrades, there always are. His atrophying arm is declared a lost caused and amputated, his last human limb gone. His newest helmet includes a visor, covering up his eyes. He becomes even more unrecognizable, the last of his humanity cut away and hidden, even to himself.

He doesn’t see Jesse again.


End file.
